


Gunpowder And Explosives

by fandomfluffandfuck



Series: Comfortable [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (using that tag even though nothing about this fic is 'dry' if you know what I mean ;)), 40s Steve Rogers, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, Begging, Breeding Kink, Bruises, Bucky Barnes Has a Big Dick, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Come Marking, Comeplay, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dry Humping, Feminization, Frottage, Hickies, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Modern Bucky Barnes, Multiple Orgasms, Nesting, Omega Steve Rogers, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Pregnancy Kink, Rough Sex, Shrunkyclunks, Size Kink, Stamina, Steve Rogers Is A Size Queen, Strength Kink, Teasing, Wall Sex (kinda), adult conversations, erotic crying, heat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29051082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfluffandfuck/pseuds/fandomfluffandfuck
Summary: It's Steve's turn.Steve Rogers is an omega, no one in the twenty-first century knew until he told Bucky Barnes (his friend at the same) when his upcoming rut came up in conversation. Then Bucky knew. Then he was Bucky's rut partner and boyfriend. Bucky is still the only one who knows, he doesn't mind keeping the secret but he's determined to not be swayed by the warnings that've come from Steve about all of the chaos that ensues during his heat- he wants to try and help him. No matter what. He wants to be there for his boyfriend during his heat.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Comfortable [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131260
Comments: 20
Kudos: 162





	Gunpowder And Explosives

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all asked for it and I can't resist. So here it is, the sister fic to "Matches And Gasoline" where instead of Bucky being in season, Steve is.
> 
> If you didn't read the first one, you don't /have/ to, but this will make a lot more sense if you do. 
> 
> *Fair warning, I didn't include them using any toys in this story but it's mentioned, so, just don't get your hopes up for that please lol? It's early in Steve's heat and so that situation hasn't come about BUT there's still very desperate, hot heat sex so... y'know. Please read it anyway.

_“Mmm, Stevie, you smell real good today, you know that?”_

_“Hmm, do I?”_

_“Yeah, you smell, like, I dunno, kinda more sweet or something.”_

_“Huh.”_

_“What? What's that look for?"_

_“I’ve- I’ve always worn scent blockers so… I, when I first presented I didn’t really smell like anything, y’know?”_

_“You were too sick, right?”_

_“Yeah. Just a runt too- hey, don’t gimme that look, it’s true.”_

_“I don’t care. It’s not a good word and you- you, you’re not a runt. No one fuckin' is, it's not... you're not that.”_

_“Not now.”_

_“Not now or_ ever.” 

_“That’s sweet. You're sweet, but either way, I didn’t really have a smell when I first presented. And then when I got the serum I was always smothered in blockers, ‘cause, yeah. I- I didn’t know. Or. I didn’t think…”_

_“Think what?”_

_“My heat’s coming up, Buck. I didn’t think my sent changed… I guess it does?”_

_“Oh.” “Well you smell really good, gooder than usual.”_

_“Gooder? Oh, please don’t tell me my scent is already making you dumb when I’m not even in pre-heat yet.”_

_“Hey!”_

_“What?”_

_“Your goddamn puppy eyes should be illegal and I am not that dumb. Not yet.”_

_“Good.”_

_“You’re an ass.”_

_“Touché.”_

_“But- your heat?”_

_“Yeah, what about it?”_

_“You said it was coming up? When? I wanna be able to call into work ahead of time so I can help you and get off on the right foot.”_

_“About that. I-” “-I don’t know if that’s a great idea.”_

_“What do you mean!? Unless- if you don’t wanna share your heat that’s fine. I just- I assumed ‘cause were dating… you don’t have to!”_

_“Buck. It’s not that I don’t want you. I would like to have you, it’s just…” “you remember your rut, right?”_

_“Mm-hm.”_

_“Well, my heat is… it’s… well, you remember how I acted?”_

_“I could never forget.”_

“Buck-!”

_“What, Stevie?” “I’ve honestly never had such a willing participant. You were- were great. Everything I needed.”_

_“Oh. Uh, thank you?”_

_“Anytime. Watching you blush is the best part of my day.”_

_“Uhg. I don’t know why I like you as much as I do.”_

_“You’ll figure it out again real soon I’m sure but. Your heat?”_

_“I, um, I mean. I- I haven’t- uhh, nevermind, I, just-”_

_“Slow down, we’re in no rush. Haven’t what?”_

_“Haven’t been, uh, y’know-”_

_“You’re blussshing!”_

_“I know.” “I was going to say that I’ve never been, um, never had it quite like that but. I also was going to say I’m gonna act like that but… worse. A lot worse.”_

_“Oh. Uh, thanks. That’s- thanks.” “Worse?”_

_“I’m saying it’s okay if you don’t want to be a part of my heat because, it’s… uhh, a bit of a mess, y’know? I’m. I’m a lot of a mess. It’s- a lot. To deal with.”_

_“Like hell I don’t want to be a part of that.”_

_“You sure?”_

_“Very- I want you to be comfortable.”_

_“What if you’re not?”_

_“You seriously think I’m not going to be comfortable seeing my omega in heat?”_

_“I- I just, it’s seriously a lot. How I acted during your rut was just me being, like, as turned on as I normally get but like a little more. My heat is about a thousand times worse.”_

_“Because of the serum?”_

_“Because of the serum.”_

_“Well- why the hell wouldn’t I want to be a part of it then? If the serum made your heats worse for_ you, _why wouldn’t I want to be there even more. It would surely be an awful lot better for you if you had an alpha, or hell, anyone to help you out.”_

_“I- doesn’t it sound kind of scary? Omega’s in season are already a handful and then some and I’m like- like… a lot more of a handful.”_

_“I do have two hands.”_

_“You did not just-”_

_“I did.” “Seriously, I would love to be there with you. Even if it might sound a little scary. I wanna be able to make sure you’re okay and taken care of and- I mean, I’m sure you can do all of those things easily by yourself but. I would like to think that you don’t have to.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“...”_

_“So… well, uhh, yes. I really, really would appreciate the, um, help.”_

_“Mm, good. When’s your heat, like, officially start?”_

_“It’ll be a couple of days, but I think though… I think you should probably have a crash course first? So you’re not diving in head first?”_

_“Whatever you think. I trust you.”_

_“Uh, yeah, me too. I do trust you.” “Because of the serum everything is turned up to, like, well, I’d say eleven but…”_

_“It’s more than that?”_

_“Yeah. Like twenty or thirty or something. I just lose my mind, Buck. Completely”_

_“I could argue that I lost my mind when I was in rut with you.”_

_“That’s- fair, I guess. I’m gonna be out of my mind for sure. You can guess pretty easily that the regular symptoms of heat will get worse for me.”_

_“Mm-hm.”_

_“I get a higher fever than the average omega, but, I also run hotter so it’s not going to do any extra damage to me or anything. If the serum would let me take damage. I get pre-heat cramps, I know not every omega does but, I do. Always have. I get ‘em really bad now. And my metabolism works really really really extra fast.”_

_“More ice, hot water bottles, and food. Got it.”_

_“Haha, but, yeah. Yeah, that couldn’t hurt.” “My heats now are only four days long. They used to be six or seven, or even just two days when I was especially sick or skinny. But usually around an entire week. Doctors have said that it’s probably impossible for my body to keep up the hyper-heat state that I have now for longer than that.”_

_“That makes sense, were they really weak when they lasted longer?”_

_“Yeah, they were. I- I, uhh, didn’t think about that. I just assumed that it was because of all my issues back then, maybe it’s just that my heats were compacted. Huh.” “But, uh, anyway- there are other things too. Like- like, uhh…”_

_“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’ve already seen me in rut.”_

_“Yeah. Yeah- I, I like get really easily upset. Easily.”_

_“Yeah? Most omega’s do don’t they? During heat?”_

_“I guess but, like, I’m not just- I’m not talking about how I am in pre-heat anymore.”_

_“Okay?”_

_“I. Jesus, this is embarrassing. I cry a lot, like a lot.”_

_“Sounds sexy.”_

_“What!? Jesus- ugh,_ Bucky!” 

_“What?”_

_“You’re a dog.”_

_“Woof.”_

_“A dog and impossible. I’m not talking about crying on your knot, knot-head, well, I kind of am. But, like, I also will cry if you get up without telling me. Or if you try to, like, make me eat when I wanna- want to… yeah. You know.”_

_“Mmm, I do know.”_

_“I hate you.”_

_“I don’t believe you.”_

_“Ugh, whatever, I don’t but, like, that’s not the point. I just cry a lot. At everything. Both at what you were thinking about earlier, when I first said it, and literally everything else. I just don’t want you to, like, freak out every time it happens.”_

_“Okay, but I can freak out a little, right?”_

_“Sure?”_

_“Good, don’t think I’d be able to not. Anything else?”_

_“There’s a lot of ‘else’, Buck.”_

_“Well, get going, we’ve only got all day.”_

_“I, uhh, okay. I’m gonna beg and- hey, I know that look, I know every omega begs during their heat because that’s just what heats make you do but. Like. For everything. I’ll beg for more than you can probably give me because my body is so, so stormed with hormones. I’m, just- I don’t want you to feel bad when you can’t give me what I want, okay? 'Cause it'll happen... eventually. It will.”_

_“That’s strangely vague of you but, okay.”_

_“I’m sure you’ll figure it out in no time.”_

_“Can’t wait-”_

_“Ugh. Yeah. I- I mean, you weren’t really talking most of the way through your rut, not through the intense parts but, like, I’m assuming you were thinking about bonding me and all that stuff?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Yeah. I’m, I’ll be more vocal. And- uhh, consider this your forewarning apology because I’m gonna beg for that too and, I know neither of us are ready for that yet. So. Hopefully your alpha instincts aren’t too upset with me at the end of the heat.”_

_“Eh- they’ll figure themselves out.”_

_“Good to know. But, seriously, again Bucky, you’re not going to be able to keep up. And it’s not- there’s nothing wrong with you for that. I’m-”_

_“You’re enhanced.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“So how do we, like, get over that? You can’t just like, be desperate the entire time when I can’t help.”_

_“I- I, I…”_

_“There’s that blush again.”_

_“Don’t make me kick you, I will.”_

_“I surrender.”_

_“Good. I was_ trying _to say that I was assuming that we’ll spend it at my apartment-”_

_“Yeah, only fair, I spent my rut in my apartment.”_

_“Yeah, thanks. If we’re at my apartment then… I have heat toys.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“Is that, like, a problem? 'Cause it's kind non-negotiable, I need it. Those. That... you know what I mean."_

_“No- I just… I’m pretty sure. I- I think you short circuited my brain… with that image.”_

_“Haha.”_

_“No, fuck, really.”_

_“Okay, I, I guess that’s kind of all I can think of off the top of my head, y’know?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“Steve?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“I can’t wait.”_

_“Oh- well, good?”_

Steve blinks his eyes open, thickly and slowly like how he used to during allergy season when he would also get sick and his eyelashes would be glued together with crap in the morning and he would have to blindly make his way to the bathroom to wash his face. His vision was kind of pretty shit then anyway- he definitely needed glasses, so either way in the morning he would bump into things. Ma never noticed the difference between either of those things, she just later would wish for some more money so he could get glasses or kiss him on the cheek and tell him that he always was clumsy.

But it’s not that. He doesn’t have allergies. He doesn’t get sick anymore. Sarah is- she’s not around, not in the twenty-first century. He just apparently can’t open his eyes this evening.

Although, having his eyes open or shut doesn’t matter apparently, not because he’s sick but because a wave of heat is forcing them shut anyway. Tight. Making little stars burst behind his eyelids, colors of all kinds shimmering there and then away. A whimper that’s high and thin and pained slips from between his trembling lips, he sucks his lower lip into his mouth. Taking it between his teeth to keep more noises at bay. His ears aren’t ringing but they are muffled, as if someone has stuffed cotton into his ears while he was napping so they could continue about their day without waking him. He was napping-  _ is  _ napping. Going into heat always makes him stupidly tired as if his body can store the sleep because it knows it won’t be getting anymore of it over the next four days. He’s napping. Was napping? He’s not really awake yet, or it doesn’t feel like he is so he’s napping. On his couch. In the living room of his apartment. 

Steve presses his face into the cushion of the couch that his head is resting on, his eyes remaining shut, curling instinctively around the cold - it’s supposed to be hot - hot water bottle that’s against his stomach. He’s expecting another round of cramps to shake him, he assumed that was what woke him, he’s expecting another round of cramps to tighten his muscles and to-

But no. It’s not that.

Nothing more comes, no more cramps or any pains of pre-heat. Just the same sharp wave continuously peaking, blaring, and heating him up. From the inside out, making his bones and skin and organs all feel melty and useless.

Steve whimpers again, panting.

_ Heat. Alpha. Alpha- _

He must be in full heat now, must’ve transitioned while he was asleep. 

The pain cutting through the wave of pure heat that’s making its home under his skin is from the throbbing of his dick and his, his hole. _Fuck._ He _aches._ He _hurts._ _Knot. Need knot. Need to be fucked. Need alpha. Alpha, alpha. Alpha._ His cramps are gone with the evaporation of his pre-heat because he can’t be bred if he’s doubled over with heat cramps but the aches of his body aren’t gone. Not without his alpha. He can’t be bred if he’s nauseous and only feeling vaguely horny but not horny enough to want to try to be fucked just yet. He can’t be bred-

_ He can’t be bred.  _

_ Breed. Knot. Knot. Heat.  _

His alpha-  _ his alpha left.  _ He’s gone. He’s not… not in the apartment. 

He whimpers more, again, or whatever. He just whimpers helplessly, he whines, he makes pathetic, high noises that risk the masculinity, the alpha-ness of everything that is  _ Captain America  _ and what that mantle is supposed to stand for. He doesn’t care. He whines, letting the noise drone on out of his lips because he can’t do anything else. He can’t fucking think. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s just, just gonna whine and  _ cry.  _ His alpha  _ left. _ He left to go and get some more heat supplies that he didn’t think of because he hasn’t been with an omega in a long time and Steve didn’t think of because he’s all mushy and-

He’s not here. 

He’s not here.  _ Alpha.  _

_ Alpha’s not here.  _

A couple of eager tears slip from his eyes, unembarrassed but hot as they fall down his cheeks, pooling over his skin or the fabric of the couch under his cheek. His cheeks are already hot though - he cries a little more about that because he’s pathetic - he doesn’t need the additional heat. He’s sweating already. Sweating so much. He’s soaked with it, his lips twist into a frown, he doesn’t need to be more wet. His damp skin is sticking to the damp fabric of the couch. His couch. In his living room. Without his alpha. The couch is normally soft and nice but- now it might as well be sandpaper under, against his skin. Same with the blanket that was draped over him. 

Which- doesn’t make sense. 

He’s boiling, he’s hot, he’s- he’s melting. He doesn’t need a blanket. A usually soft blanket that now feels like it’s got a bunch of pieces of plastic and metal stuck inside of it. Scratching away at his hot, slick skin. He’s just… he’s getting it wet. He’s making it stink. He throws and kicks the blanket off of him, huffing. He lets the cold-but-supposed-to-be-hot hot water bottle drop to the floor, shoving it over the side of the couch rudely. 

But- he looks at the blanket, half on the floor and half on the couch. 

Bucky must’ve given him that blanket. When he left. He wanted him to be comfortable and so he must’ve given him a blanket on the way out of the door-

Steve hears himself keen and whimper in one noise, upset and joyful, confused and knowing. His watery eyes water even more, spilling over more, a fresh tide of tears dripping silently down his overheated cheeks.  _ Bucky, alpha, brought you a blanket. And you threw it away. You-  _ he picks up the blanket hurriedly, shutting his mouth against a tiny wail that’s begging to get out, and quickly fumbles to gather all of the blanket in his arms. Holding it to his front before he shifts and wraps it back around himself. Making a shall of the blanket, draping it over his shoulders and back. Sitting up and basking in the knowledge that he’s been taken care of. That someone wants to take care of him, holding the blanket, damp and packed so full of his own scent that even though Bucky scent marked it before he left he can’t really smell his scent on it anymore. He holds it close like one would hold a box of matches when wandering out in a snowstorm except- 

Except when he squirms restlessly, falling deeper into the couch and tensing for no reason, he can feel  _ more _ wetness. Not just on the blanket or across his shoulders and back. His boxers, ass, and the backs of his thighs are  _ drenched. _ There’s slick sliding wetly between the curves of his backside and, and-  _ oh.  _ He whines again. He can feel how  _ wet _ he is, how  _ slick  _ he is, how  _ swollen _ and  _ puffy _ his hole is, how much he needs his alpha. Normally he’s so tight, so tight because of the serum, but his body wants his alpha badly and wants him to be able to just  _ sink  _ into him and so he’s not so tight. He might be gaping a little. Like he’s already had some fingers- and,  _ oh,  _ maybe a tongue. He wants his alpha’s mouth on him. After he gets his knot. 

Steve moans breathily, imagining the eyes-rolling-back, toe-curling feeling of his alpha’s thick, long, hard, hot cock sliding into his aching cunt. Packing him full. Stopping the throbbing of his needy body. Claiming him. His alpha- helping him through his heat. His alpha.  _ Bucky. Knot. Breed. Alpha. Alphaalphaalphaalph- _

Bucky.

Bucky is gonna come back. He’s going to- he wanted to take care of him during his heat. And. And he’ll have to come through the door. To get into the apartment he’ll have to come in through the door. To come back to  _ him. _ And, Steve needs; he needs him. He needs to be ready. He needs to be fucked. As soon as possible. 

His vision clears a little even though he gets dizzier as he thinks about getting his alpha back. 

Being knotted. Being bred. Being held down and forced to take his  _ oh-so fucking large  _ cock.

He stops crying, in that he doesn’t register if there are still tears dripping down his face or not and he doesn’t care, he sniffles instead. His lower lip trembles so he bites down on it. His fingers dig themselves into the blanket Bucky gave him, tugging it as close to his skin as he can get it. Wanting it even closer though. He wants his alpha  _ inside  _ of him, marking him as his and scrawling his name inside of his cunt. Claiming what’s his already. 

He clenches wetly around nothing, pouting and sniffling. More slick drips out of him. 

Dragging himself to his feet with a tortured groan, Steve stands; his head swimming, insides clenching and sloshing with how hot and melted he feels. 

He’s not thinking, not really, he’s just letting his body follow his instincts weakly because his brain is nothing but mush, circling the drain with the chants of  _ knot, alpha, knot, knot. Breed. Alpha. Knot. Breed. Cum. Need to cum. Need alpha’s knot. Need, need. Heat.  _ He sways on his feet for a moment, just bathing in his desperation because it doesn’t feel like there’s anything else he can possibly do on his own. His muscles tense and pull exhaustingly, trying just to keep him upright. He’s already so tired. Just from standing. He whines- he doesn’t want to stand. He wants- he wants his alpha to take him to bed and fuck him until he’s cumming around his knot, screaming himself hoarse. He wants his alpha. 

Steve cries a little more or a little harder, it’s hard to tell, his mind is so mushy with his heat. His chest heaves and his muscles all start trembling just with the effort that it is to both stand and ache for his alpha at the same time. 

He  _ can’t. _

So he drops to his knees and crawls to the front door. 

_ Need to be ready for alpha. I need his knot. His cum. His- everything. I need everything. Everything he’ll give me. I want all of it. I’ll take all of it. I- need. I  _ need _ it.  _

Steve’s vision is so blurred with tears and the haze of his rising heat that he barely can see the floor as his palms fumble across it. He sees no details of it, just the solid color of the wood. He doesn’t feel the biting of the wood into his knees or his palms because all he feels is the pounding, throbbing of his heat, pulsing through his body like his heartbeat when he’s in the middle of a battle. Maybe it’s even faster. He doesn’t know. He just feels it. A tide pulling and pulling at him, coaxing him deeper with it’s force. Heat rising up over him, entrapping and entangling his body. 

Slick drips down his thighs as he crawls, making all of his jagged breaths turn into little exhaled moans. He pictures that his alpha is waiting for him by the door- just to keep himself going. He pictures the feral fucking look that’d be dripping down his face if he were there to watch him crawl: the hunger in his eyes, the carnal curl of his lips into a snarl, the growl vibrating in his chest, the fists his hands would ball into in order to let him crawl and not just slam him down and take him. Oh, but,  _ fuck.  _ Steve wants to be taken. He wants it. He needs it. 

His limbs shake and give out from underneath him. 

Pleasure cuts through him, hard and fast like lightning but staying behind too, simmering, continuing to burn through him. Low and hot. His dick, leaking and hurting, is pressed to the floor. His lips open to let a ragged groan out of him, coming up directly from the churning, boiling, tightening coil of heat in his stomach. Seeking out some form of release from the pleasure inhabiting his body and taking him over. If he can’t be knotted, he’ll moan until his body doesn’t feel so fucking packed with feelings. 

He grinds weakly down into the floor. 

_ Fuck. Fuck. Jesus- _

_ “Oh-!”  _ He hears himself moan helplessly, loud enough that it bounces off of the walls of his apartment, the sound dirty and hot and embarrassing to his own ears. His face burns hotter along with his ears and neck and chest. It doesn’t even feel  _ that _ good. It  _ shouldn’t _ feel that good. 

He’s grinding - fucking humping - the  _ floor,  _ half covered in a blanket his alpha left for him even though he’s sweat all the way through it. Leaking through his boxers with his soaked hole and his weepy, hard dick. 

But, _ fuck, _ it  _ does _ feel good and- he can’t stop himself. 

Every little shift of fabric, his tight, wet boxers and the blanket against his skin feels like fingers, caressing him. Teasing him, not putting enough pressure on him for it to really mean anything, just breathing over him and pulling away. His skin is so sensitive. He can feel his body against himself like normal but it’s also helplessly good. It’s making more waves of heat and need and pressure build up inside of him. His ass-cheeks keep sliding together wetly as he humps down onto the floor and- he  _ can’t.  _

His hole, his cunt, is so puffy and wet and swollen and sensitive and it’s got shocks of pleasure going through him every time he moves. His balls are tight to his body, full and begging for release like the rest of his hungry skin, crying and whining and clawing to cum while his brain is just as desperately wanting his alpha. Chanting and commanding that he can’t cum until his alpha is back, even if it’s murder on the rest of him.  _ Alpha. Bucky.  _

He can’t cum. Not until his alpha is here. Here with him. He can’t-

He doesn’t finish the messy grind that he started, he doesn’t push his leaking dick down into the unforgiving floor again for some mediocre pleasure that feels like everything because any pleasure is better than none when every molecule in him is desperate and on fire. He can’t cum but if he wants to cum as soon as possible… he should get himself ready for his alpha.  _ Breed. Knot. Knot. Cum.  _

Clumsily he scrambles to get his elbows under his body. 

His arms pull and shake and hesitate but they do what he begs of them to. Eventually. Hazily he blinks, his eyelids are heavy and so they stay shut for longer than he intends but when they open back up his world is clearer so he doesn’t mind it. He’s laying in the beginning of the little hallway that leads into his apartment. He can see the door. The lock is still locked.  _ Alpha will come back. He will.  _

_ “Alpha,”  _ he whimpers shyly at the door, his thoughts slipping into the real world. 

He hefts himself up, keeping the blanket close. Then he’s not laying on the floor but has his back against the wall that’s the closest to him. A sigh escapes his mouth, his lips stay relaxed after it leaves, he doesn’t have the energy to shut his mouth all of the way again- the wall is cold. Nice against his sweaty, flushed, overheated skin. His legs are curled under him, folded up, and everywhere his skin is resting against itself is slick but it doesn’t matter. He’s sitting up. 

His heartbeat pounds in his ears for a moment, overtaking the silence of the room. All of him is pounding though, so it doesn’t matter. His skin is throbbing with need and heat and primal instincts that always get the best of him. Turning him into an animal. Knowing nothing but  _ heat, alpha, knot, breed. _ His dick is leaking more now that it’s got no attention, throwing a tantrum, making him throb awfully. His hole is happier but not happy because the pressure of just sitting on his backside is better than nothing but it’s practically nothing. He’s not stopped dripping. He’s going to be sitting in a pool of his own slick. 

His lips pout into a moan, thinking about nothing but the suffocating lack of pleasure rushing through him. He’s paralyzed though, needing and unable to take. Just to want. 

_ Alpha. Knot. Knot, knot, knot. Breed me.  _

Shaking, Steve pulls his hand to the waistband of his boxers, hooking the tips of his fingers into the last item of clothing that he has on and grabbing on. Intending on pulling them down as much as he can. Readying himself. Getting himself naked. 

His veins rush to fill full of anticipation, knowing what that hopefully means. Making him even more hypersensitive. His eyes squeeze shut. 

He’s so blinded by the instincts clawing at and wrecking his insides that he just rips his boxers. 

It just happens. 

He doesn’t even hear the sound. He doesn’t feel the tearing. He just… he glances down at himself, panting, and his underwear has been ruined. By his own hands. He whines, looking at the deep, deep red of his ignored, tortured dick. More need and want rushes into him just looking at himself. He needs his alpha. He needs Bucky. Stray tears flow from his eyes, the damn breaking again. Most of the scraps of the fabric lying limply in his hand. His dick twitches, standing proud and a little more happy with the lack of restraint. He gasps, his dick twitches again. His hole keeps leaking, dripping, throbbing, driving him crazy. 

Like a man possessed he drops what’s left of his underwear and impatiently tugs away the parts of fabric clinging to the wetness on his skin. Crying and heaving in breaths all the while, melting and breaking apart at the seams. He moans when it drags over his cunt. Deprived and so needy that he’ll take anything and moan like a whore at it.

He sobs and wails and chokes when he finds his fingertips at his own hole. 

Tracing the wet, engorged, sweltering skin of his entrance and throwing his head back; his skull cracking against the wall, pain washing down his spine and pooling with all the scraps of pleasure he’s gotten since he woke up in his stomach. Tight and hot. Unbearable even though nothings fucking happened yet. He prods at his cunts again, moaning when he  _ feels  _ another gush of slick drip out of him, craving more. 

He pushes all of his first finger into himself, going all the way down in one go because he’s aching and he’s hungry. He can’t take it anymore. He needs something in him. He’ll go crazy without it. He needs it. 

The first stretch of his finger doesn’t satiate him though, it only stokes the flames raging through him like a spark through a matchstick forest. Lighting him up, deepening his hunger and cravings and opening up parts of his appetite that he’s never experienced before. It doesn’t even feel like a stretch, just one finger, his body needs it so bad. He’s leaking so much and his muscles are so compliant. So willing to let anything that wants in into his body. Needing to be filled. 

His second finger joins the first, meeting inside of him, and he nearly swallows his tongue. Hitting his head against the wall again, Steve wails and his dick twitches, dripping more pre-cum. He whines. Pain and pleasure morphing into one hot, thick flow inside of him. He’s getting something that he wants - getting filled up - but he’s not getting what he needs, he’s not getting his alpha’s knot, and so he’s pleasuring and torturing himself. It feels like he’s getting harder as his dick jumps against him again, having the walls of his cunt stroked clumsily by his own fingers, having his rim stretched, having something finally inside of him, but it’s not possible. There’s no fucking blood in his body that isn’t at his hole, his dick, or his balls. 

He might die.  _ He’s gonna fucking die.  _

He needs so,  _ so bad-  _ he needs to cum. 

But he can feel his body locking onto the fact that he’s not going to cum until his alpha is there. He needs his alpha. Then he can cum. Then he can be knotted. Be bred. Be taken care of and stuffed full until his belly is heavy under him with his cum when he gets up onto all fours to take another round of his cum, another knot. Stuffed full until he’s whimpering for his alpha to pull out rather than plug him up with his knot ‘cause he’s too full and he might, he might burst. He wants to feel that. He wants all of him inside him. He wants to have his womb full and bloated and packed  _ tight.  _ He-

The muscles of his own body pull him back to real life. His cunt is rippling and crying and clenching around his fingers. Two of his fingers. 

He pushes another finger into himself moaning, his mouth hanging open, his throat drying as he sucks in lungfuls of air. Trying to breathe properly when all he wants is to be fucked so full that he has a hard time breathing. 

Some reserve of strength, super or not, lets Steve lift his hips up a tiny bit, his muscles protest the entire time but it doesn’t matter. Not when he drops back down onto the three fingers he has inside of himself. He moans, using all of the air he’s got, nearly screaming. It’s not enough- nothing but his alpha’s knot would be. But it is something. 

He’s just shy of his prostate but barely grazing it is more than enough when he can’t cum, when he’s waiting but also not. When he needs his alpha and doesn’t have him yet. He does it again. The same crushing wave of pleasure rushes through him, making his thighs tremble even more as he rides his own fingers, knocking his bones into his muscles and his muscles into his skin. Wrecking him. Making him moan again, his mouth hangs open still, wet. He might be drooling. He’s probably still crying. It doesn’t matter. His head is a mess, slushy and unthinking, only feeling. Feeling pleasure and an inferno of arousal.

Pleasure swaths him. He drops his chin to his chest, his eyes shutting tight, his mouth wide open spilling frantic noise after noise. Heat licks up his spine as rivers of sweat pour down his back and face and chest and- surely he’s actually melting at this point? _ Right? _

Steve presses his pinky into himself carelessly, his only thought is  _ more  _ and it rings through his empty head like a gunshot. Like an explosion.

He sobs, his entire body convulsing. Feeling his rim protest at the added girth of his last finger and relishing in it- it’s the best fucking thing he’s felt all day. Reveling in the stretch.  _ Finally. _ Whimpering and curling his toes at the tip of his tongue being able to taste what it’ll be like to take Bucky’s knot. His body locking tight and hot around the full, hard shape of him. Stretching him wide. Making him take it. Making him submit and making him satisfied. Making him take his seed inside of his womb. 

He cries out, his insides full of gunpowder that’s been lit but hasn’t exploded yet, molten and waiting. Waiting for  _ alpha. Alpha. Bucky.  _

He’s dripping all over himself, over his fingers and over his palm and over his wrist. And he’s dripping all over the floor and the ripped shape of his underwear laying lifelessly next to him and-  _ fuck.  _ He whines, shaking more, convulsing really, getting more of his body into the unsteady rhythm he’s trying to build. His muscles burning and adding unbearably to the heat of his heat. He’s more than melted; he’s incapacitated by the heat that’s raging inside of him. He’s nothing but needing. Needy. 

Steve doesn’t hear the key slide into the lock. 

He doesn’t hear the lock click and open. He doesn’t hear the door creak as it swings open. He doesn’t hear the punched out, hit by a wrecking ball straight in the center of the chest, gasp that Bucky makes. He doesn’t hear the thunk of the last minute groceries hitting the floor, the crinkling of plastic. He doesn’t hear the slam of the door. He doesn’t hear the feral, deep, primal growl of his alpha. He doesn’t hear the ground shaking footsteps of his alpha. 

He doesn’t hear any of it.

But he feels his fingers on his jaw and then on his face. Cool and soothing compared to the hurricane of fire rampaging through him. But he smells his rising, rich smell of his alpha, aroused and wanting, spurring him on- inhaled through his nose and collecting inside of him. Taking shape around his arousal and holding him tighter. Coils and ropes and restraints of feeling and sensations around his body that have him shaking and sobbing and feeling like he’s going to die if Bucky doesn’t do something. Doesn’t help him. 

Steve sobs hard through the piercing whine that smashes out of him, tears making his vision smear and blur and become useless but he blinks up dreamily at his alpha regardless. Needing him. Wanting him. 

He shakes harder. Mewling incoherently. His body becomes useless. He stops bouncing on his own fingers with another chest-clenching sob and just curls them deep inside of himself because he can’t do anything else, he feels like he’s been melted into a liquid and like he’s been turned to stone. He can’t move but he’ll bend to anything his alpha wants. He will. 

All that is keeping him pinned to the wall is the feral, dominating look in his alpha’s dark, ravenous eyes. He would crumble to the floor without it. 

_ “Stevie,” _ Bucky breathes through clenched teeth, still sounding awed as he has obvious trouble controlling himself.  _ Don’t want you to control yourself, want you to take me. Now.  _ Desperately Steve leans into his touch and tries to say fucking something, something that would make even a lick of sense, it doesn’t have to be great or anything. He just- “shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have left you-” his alpha starts to whisper, holding his face in trembling palms and shaking his head to himself but still fucking a million miles away, he whimpers. He wants him close. He needs him close. 

He sobs harshly trying to get his body to lean closer to him, trying to get him to fucking do something. Choking out a barely recognizable version of,  _ “pl-pluh-please. Please. Oh. Please. Nnn-need it. Knot me. Please. Ple-ease. Knot. Want knot- stretch me out, alpha. Wanna have- wanna have your babies.”  _

One second he’s sitting up against the wall and the next he’s flat on the floor with his alpha pinning him there. 

His nose in the crook of his neck, breathing and drinking in his heat smell with a snaky moan of,  _ “oh, fuck.”  _ Slipping out of his gorgeous mouth, his lips brushing his hypersensitive skin, pulling a feminine gasp out of his throat, _ “smell so good,”  _ he rumbles. Making his core throb harder, making his demanding cunt clench around  _ nothing  _ because his- his fingers aren’t inside of himself. 

_ “For you!”  _ He wails. And it’s true. All of it is for his alpha. He wants to smell good for his alpha, he wants to drive him crazy and make him fuck him like an  _ animal. _ He wants his alpha, he wants to be good for his alpha. He needs to be good for his alpha. He needs his alpha. 

Reeling with it - being pushed down onto the floor and being without any real relief - he keens. Pushing himself up into the heavy, heavy weight of his alpha, he wails, high and distressed.  _ Knot. Knot. Knot. Alpha. Breed. Alpha. In me. In me. Knot me _ . His instincts rage, he babbles some of it out incoherently because there’s not enough room in his big body to house the want, need, and words all at once. 

His alpha’s hard,  _ so fucking hard,  _ cock is pressing into his leaking dick. He  _ weeps. _ He needs that fucking cock inside of him, filling him up, stretching him out and making him cry for  _ good _ reasons. He’s so big. So large. So thick. He’d fill him up so good- he  _ has  _ filled him up so good. Made him take it and choke on it whether he’s fucking his ass or his throat. His alpha has the perfect cock. The denim of his jeans is cold and rough against him- rough enough that his eyes water even more, but he doesn’t fucking care. Anything is better than the unwavering never-ending but always climbing boiling, molten heat that’s destroying him. His shirt is just as welcome against his bare, slick chest because nothing matters but the fact that he’s pressing him into the floor. 

_ “Fffuck me.”  _ He wails with fat, urgent tears dripping down his cheeks. Clawing at him and swallowing his own tongue with every little spark that might be pleasure because he needs so much pleasure. So much more. He’ll take anything. 

A knot comes loose in his chest, the ropes that made the knot fucking break too and so he just makes some fucking noise that he’s never heard come out of himself or anyone else, it’s desperate and loud and it makes his throat ache like the rest of him. He clings to his alpha with everything he has inside of himself, curling into him. He squirms and pants and does everything and nothing underneath his alpha. His instincts howl and cry and make a fucking mess of his brain and mouth,  _ “‘m not full en-enough, I need-”  _ Steve sobs hard enough that his throat hurts. His chest aches with it.  _ “Need you in m’, a’pha, wanna- want you to keep m’ fu-fullll.”  _

Bucky  _ growls  _ wildly at him, his whole chest vibrating above Steve with the primal noise, and lifts his legs around his waist for whatever fucking reason but it provides his neglected, weeping, pulsing dick with just enough friction and Steve screams. 

He  _ screams. _ Bucky bites at his neck and his eyes roll back into his head and he’s cumming, thinking of his alpha’s cock pumping him full.

His cunt clenches around nothing though, chasing weak phantom feelings of the little amount of pleasure that his own fingers brought him, trying to milk the knot that he hasn’t gotten yet- making the hole gaping inside of him, the one in need of feeling his alpha’s knot to be completed, yawns wider. Yearning. Opening up even more vast wants within him. His abs contract and ripple with the ache. His dick jerks and his balls hurt as he spills over. He’s cumming, crashing through his orgasm with no warning at all. Just experiencing it- thrown in head first. 

The devastating pleasure is a crescendo of every good thing he’s ever felt at once hitting him over the head like a million ton building, splintering every bone into his body into a million helpless, fluttering scraps of bone that might as well be paper. He ruptures. He explodes. He spontaneously becomes ash, burnt to a crisp, all the way through. He probably screams again- he wouldn’t be surprised but he doesn’t know anything but the pleasure crushing him. His vision bleeds into nothing but hot white. White noise rushes into his veins with reservoirs of pleasure. 

He’s not sure he can take it all.

He’s feeling so much blanket, overall pleasure that he doesn’t feel himself spill all over his belly, soaking himself impossibly more. Making himself an even bigger mess. He doesn’t feel his alpha shutter and groan like he’s been shot above him, reacting to watching his earth-shattering orgasm, crashing into him a little harder as he realizes what just happened. He doesn’t feel the threads of his alpha’s shirt come apart under his clenched fingers like tissue paper. 

Steve whimpers without thinking about doing it. It just happens. The feeling of  _ no  _ just echoes through his chest without reason. His body just does it, it just keeps running- he’s in no shape to do anything himself. His heart is still pounding restlessly- he can hear it beyond the cotton stuffed into his ears. There’s still a fever racing under his skin because he can feel the sweat all over him, covering him, he almost feels like it’s under his skin too. If the sweat isn’t under his skin then the heat is. A lot of heat. He’s still- still… he needs more. _ More  _ his hazy thoughts and instincts whisper, in harmony. He came but he… 

Another whimper and rush of  _ no  _ finishes off any hazy, might-be line of reasoning or thought inside of his head. Pushing him into another not so clear mindset, he breathes as slow and deep as he can, trying to understand. It’s like his head is literally in the clouds, fogging his vision even with shut eyes and making him dumb from oxygen deprivation. 

_ “Shh,”  _ hushes a voice. Gentle and smooth but also  _ rough,  _ wrapping Steve up in a blanket of sound. His dick twitches. It’s a good voice. 

_ His alpha. His alpha’s voice.  _

His alpha is there? Isn’t there? 

Steve whines, trying with heavy, clumsy fingers to find something of his alpha to prove that he’s not just a voice in his head. His hands are splayed out to the sides of his body, palm up, his fingers do nothing more than twitch in place. His eyes won’t open. His tongue is too thick. Heat pounds the underside of his skin like trillions of tiny hammers, everything is coated in need inside him. His dick is still hard. He can feel it resting in a sticky puddle of his own cum over his stomach. It’s just as hard as it was somehow. Probably just as weepy although, he can’t, can’t feel that, having just cum. He can feel his hole still; his cunt is still aching, still ravenous, still just as empty and incomplete without his alpha’s knot or cock to fill him up. His rim twitches at the mere idea. It forces a breathy moan from his dried throat and mouth. 

_ “Shh, ‘m right here,” _ alpha says. 

And he is. He’s- 

He’s laying back down on top of him but without his clothes and-  _ “mmm, oh. A’pha,”  _ spills over and out of his mouth, dripping down his chin and hopefully into his alpha’s ears because he’s not sure he can understand him, his lips and tongue aren’t working right. Not that it matters. He’s here and he’s  _ naked  _ and that’s what matters. 

He hears himself moan loudly, his skin feels  _ glorious.  _ It’s soft and hot but not too hot like he is and it’s against all of him and- it’s like lightning striking him in a way that’s  _ good  _ and  _ safe _ and everything he needs. Making his nerves calm and come back together to be a little less frayed than before. Making his starving hole drool a fresh round of slick but somehow making the need tattooed into him more bearable. 

His toes curl- he’s  _ so close. _ He could just lift his legs back up and slide right into him. Fuck him right here on the floor, hard and rough like he desperately needs it. 

_ “Better?”  _ Alpha asks, his lips against his cheek, his throat is still strained with gravelly arousal but it’s also deep and comforting. Like being submerged in a bath. A cold bath. Steve could use a cold bath. He’s too hot. He whines, twisting his head dizzily, trying to get his alpha to-

Steve melts. Mewling into his alpha’s lips, the heat under his skin tampering down into something that’s not life or death with his taste on his lips. 

“Buck,” he chokes into his mouth, “pluh- _ please.” _ his voice breaks with a sob in the middle of the word, “need-” Steve’s weak, broken begging is cut off by a sharp, overwhelming swell of pleasure as his alpha nips his scent gland, lightning quick. He moans, arching his neck and presenting more room for him to do whatever the fuck he pleases to him. 

“Steve.” Bucky parrots back, wanting, breathing heavy and hot and wet over the thin skin of his neck. He squirms, tightening his thighs together unconsciously, whimpering with the swollen, hot, wet feeling between his cheeks. “I know what you need, omega,  _ it’s okay.” _

Steve believes him- he always will. He’s okay. There’s mass amounts of diminishing pleasure and rising need and heat overtaking his body but he’s okay. It’s okay.

“Good, ‘mega,” he grumbles out, breathing more intentionally now, they’re chests still resting together. Wanting him to follow his lead. He does, not really thinking about it. 

He breathes, he’s suffocating in heat but he’s breathing. Need is climbing up, some of it rising more and some of it returning suddenly but it’s alright. He’s feeling his alpha’s skin, softer than anything else feels now that he’s in heat. He’s breathing. In and out. His alpha is breathing. Breathing with him. He’s hard and achy and needing more than what he’s getting but he’s okay. He’s breathing with his alpha. He’s okay. 

His alpha kisses the corner of his lazily opened mouth, “can you walk?” 

Confusedly, Steve draws his eyebrows together and tries to open his eyes. Going slow, fighting through the should be simple movement as his eyelids have apparently been filled with sand. Chirping sweetly, he finally blinks open his eyes and finds his alpha hovering over him, caging him in, skin to skin, pressing him into the floor. And, actually-

“Alpha?” He tilts his head to the side, his eyes ignore his wonderful sweaty face and his dark, wanting eyes in favor of burning paths that he can’t help down his bare skin. His cunt clenching and his dick jumping with interest. He’s not just shirtless but pantless. Not underwearless either but that’s a pretty easy fix. A quick fix. He likes quick.

“Hmm?” His eyes bore into him, hungry, making Steve hungrier. “Oh-” he catches up, “you, uhh, tore my shirt.”

“Oh.” 

“Don’t worry,” he smirks, handsome and sexy as all hell. Seeing well deserved cocky confidence on his alpha makes him  _ drip. _ “I like you more than I liked that shirt.” 

“Oh,  _ god,” _ he whines, giggling despite himself and pushing his forehead into Bucky’s neck. Biting his lip in an effort to keep more laughter from bubbling up, he always gets giggly during sex ‘cause all of the feelings make him a little more than loopy, thanks to the serum, it’s embarrassing. He knows his cheeks are bright red, or even brighter than they were already from his heat flush. 

“I, personally,” his alpha begins, his tone dipping into one that he knows means trouble. A low, deep, slow, and entirely charming tone that’s not really his Alpha Voice but that makes Steve want to roll over and show him his belly anyway. It’s practically the same thing. It’s a sex voice. A  _ daddy voice  _ more so than his Alpha Voice. It brings him to his knees. It wrecks him and always makes his fists and toes curl. “Don’t think it’s that big of a deal, omega-” his eyes blow wide just the sound of his title in  _ that  _ tone. Other places take interest too, eagerly listening in with shaking muscles and pounding need, “I happen to  _ love _ knowing how much you’re enjoying yourself.” Steve swallows a punched out whine. “I love knowing that you’re so hot over whatever I’m doing to you that you literally can’t control yourself. Ripping my clothes off of me because you need me so bad. Begging for my knot. Shaking and whimpering, not thinking about how much of your strength you're using because  _ you _ want to be  _ used.”  _

Steve breathes,  _ “fuck. Alpha.”  _ Half whining and half gasping. He can feel his alpha’s pulse through his cock, pressed snugly against his own tortured dick.  _ Inside me,  _ his instincts insist,  _ knot knotalphaknot- _

“So?” His voice snaps right back to it’s normal, slightly roughened tone as if he hasn’t just turned all of his muscles to jelly in one fell swoop. “Do you think you can stand? I don’t think I can actually pick you up.” 

“Now ‘m not sure,” he whispers, wobbly giggles bubbling through his honesty, holding his voice captive. His legs feel as shaky as his cunt. His cunt is immeasurably more achy though- heat cramps have nothing on the need of the ever deepening need of his hole. He feels weaker than he ever has. Pounding and trembling with the thrumming of his heat. He kind of really, really just wants to beg for his alpha to ravish him on the floor, to pound him into the floor and make sure that all of his neighbors, downstairs neighbors included, know that he’s in heat with the best fucking alpha around taking him. Claiming him. 

“Well,” he drawls, rolling off of him and standing, “if you get into bed then I’ll knot you. I know you want it, omega,” he croons. Holding out a hand, standing above him. 

_ That’s not fucking fair. _

Shakily Steve reaches up and grasps Bucky’s hand, trying his hardest to use his own strength to pull himself up and mostly failing. Bucky grunts and his arms, shoulders, and pecs flex deliciously, moving and emphasizing the sheen of sweat over his skin, pulling him up and instantly taking most of his weight. He neglects to thank him on account of the saliva flooding his mouth. He wants to _ lick _ him. He wants to bite his chest as he plows him. He wants to feel his arms straining to hold him down, to hold him up, to fuck into him.

Bucky growls and tells him, “c’mon, just to the bedroom. I know it’s hard,” Steve would laugh at the double entendre, if his entire being wasn’t focused on staying upright, “but you can make it, can’tcha, baby?” 

Steve whimpers, his lower lip trembling, leaning harder into the crutch of his shoulder- he suddenly is not so sure he can wait. 

Standing up makes all of the slick that was pooling around him without him noticing rush downward, it makes his all of his muscles ache more everywhere which reminds him where he’s  _ really  _ aching. It makes his insides feel weird in a way that only happens to him during heat and all that does is remind him that he’s in heat. It doesn’t take his mind off of his need. It’s just- just his need. And he, uhh, he  _ needs. _

It’s just not fucking comfortable- walking. 

He knows his alpha knows, he can smell the apology in his otherwise rich, smoky, attractive scent. He knows he wishes he could just sweep him off his feet and carry him but… even if he could lift a regular six two man then he still wouldn’t be able to lift him. The serum made sure his bones are dense and difficult to break and that his muscles are densely packed- he’s heavy. He gets it. 

It doesn’t stop him from shaking and whining a little as he puts one foot clumsily in front of the other. He can’t not. It’s too hard… to keep the noises in. 

They make it a ways forward, steps unsteady and feeling like  _ a lot _ more steps forward that reality - they’re only on the other side of the room - before something in his brain is reminded of the blanket that his alpha gave him and he whines with more intention than just being uncomfortable. He wants the blanket. He wants- he actually wants the blanket  _ and _ the clothes his alpha took off. He, he- 

His cheeks flush at the mantra of  _ nest, nest, nest  _ that thumps like a drum in his head. Nesting isn’t- it really isn’t a thing anymore. Most omegas don’t nest anymore. They don’t have the impulse or if they do it’s quiet, barely even there at all. The impulse is “ _ old-fashioned”. _ Not with evolution finally having caught up to the fact that omegas are nearly always in their home during heats, not in the wild with unpredictable elements all around them. There’s soft, comfortable places all around them- they don’t need to waste energy creating them. 

He still cries, deteriorating, leaning heavier onto his alpha. 

_ Nest. Alpha. Nest. Nest. Alpha. Knot. Breed. _

_ “Hey, hey,” _ Bucky rumbles, squeezing the hand he’s got around his waist tighter, digging the pads of his fingers into his skin to ground him, his voice half growl and half not, “what’s wrong?” 

He flushes hotter, embarrassed, but he whines louder, instincts winning out. The sound climbs higher in the back of his throat, his body torn into two. Logical and instinctual. He throws a hazy, fevered look back over his shoulder, swallowing a pathetic sob that’s jumping up the back of his throat, building up a stone in his throat. 

_ “It’s okay,” _ Alpha hushes, his scent taking on more anxiety. It's the last piece of straw that breaks the camel's back. 

“You brought me a, a bl-blanket,” he says, wobbly and upset, his voice rising into something of a wail. Eyes watering and spilling over immediately because of all the crying he’s already been doing. Already on the edge.

“Yeah?” Bucky husks, not pushing or asking really, just letting him know he’s listening. 

Steve sways into the heat of his alpha, into his body, shaking, needing comfort in his alpha, in Bucky, “want it.” He whines, meaning the blanket and him and his knot, “want-” he sobs but knows he has to make himself say it or his alpha won’t understand,  _ “wanna nest,” _ he whispers, clinging to him, not wanting him to let go even though he wants the blanket and doesn’t want to let go of Bucky. Bucky rumbles, his fingers tracing unpredictable but soothing patterns over his bare skin, letting him rest against him. 

“Here.” Alpha walks them another step forward and slowly, slowly coaxes him to sit down. Settling him back against the wall like he was when he came home. He whimpers. He doesn’t get it-  _ why? Why would alpha-? _

Bucky combs his hair back from his sweaty forehead with his hand, looking straight into his eyes, “‘m gonna go grab it an’ you can watch me get it. ‘M gonna come right back to you, okay?” 

“Okkay,” he whines. Looking up at his alpha dreamily, his heat peaking back up, taking over any parts of him that are stubborn enough to try and fight his instincts. His lip wobbles but he bites down on it, flicking his eyes back up to his alpha. His handsome alpha. 

He darts over to the blanket, grabbing it and curling it into a ball, his lips curling into a feral, predatory smirk as he smells the desperation of Steve on it. He also grabs his own shirt and jeans when Steve’s eyes helplessly dart to the crumbled shapes.  _ Alpha’s so smart. Handsome and smart and- _

_ He’d be such a good daddy for a pup, wouldn’t he?  _

Steve’s fuzzy eyes shoot right back to his alpha. His hole aches. It’s bad.  _ Worse.  _ He blinks- trying in vain to push back the tears but it just makes more flow over. His fucking  _ womb  _ aches. Aches to be full of his cum, his seed. It aches to be full and heavy and  _ impregnated. _ And bonded. And everything- like always, all of his instincts are clamoring for everything. Greedy and starving with their hunger for Bucky.

_ Claim me. Bond me. Breed me. Alpha, alpha, alphaalphaalphaalpha.  _

Bucky’s hands, cool and shaky but  _ steadying, _ grab his. He grunts and growls, pulling him upright as he drapes him in the blanket he’s so gracefully fetched. His own clothes are tucked under his arm. 

Gasping, eyes rolling back into his head, Steve is shoved into the wall. His back and head hit the wall with a stupid loud sound to his sensitive ears, making sparks, bright and hot, fly through his muscles. The perfect feeling of pain that can melt into pleasure assaulting his system. Making his lips part in a moan that gives his alpha the perfect entrance, fucking his tongue into his mouth. Hot and messy and  _ so  _ good. 

The hand that’s intertwined with his alpha’s squeezes until he nips his lower lip and mumbles something of a,  _ “stop that,”  _ into his mouth because he’s really not in control of his strength right now-  _ just like he said. He knows.  _ And then all he’s doing is moaning and letting his alpha claim his mouth. All of the tension bleeding from him. His lips buzzing with erotic static, his head whiting out. Pleasure and his world view narrowing to the perfect feeling of Bucky’s lips on his. 

Bucky tears himself away. Steve whines and pulls at his hand, trembling and trying to push himself away from the wall but falling short of it. All he manages is to get a rough, growling chuckle from his alpha.    
  
“Bed, omega.” He commands, his voice honey thick and as entrancing as a magic spell. He obeys. 

Steve lets himself be manhandled onto the bed, or, really he gets manhandled onto the bed. He’s not really letting his alpha do anything because he can’t put up a fight at all, there’s so much heat and desperation gathered inside of him, vibrating under his skin and shaking him apart. He’s crying and hyperventilating as the possibility of getting knotted grows closer and closer. He needs it. He’s drooling, he can feel the huge, fucking  _ huge,  _ shape of his alpha’s cock, his desire, against him now and again when time isn’t nothing to his melted mind and all he wants is to have him inside of him. He wants him stretching his rim smooth and he wants to choke on it, wondering if he’ll be able to fit into him at all. 

His back hits the sheets first. 

He squirms, reveling in the cool embrace of the sheets against his feverish, burning skin. He strips the blanket he’s got and pushes it up to the head of the king sized bed where the rest of the softest things he owns are, needing to revel in the sheets for a moment. Dry and cool whereas he’s melting with sweat, a bonfire taking place of his heart and lungs. The sheets he picked particularly because they’re luxurious and soft feel like sandpaper against his skin with the hyper sensation of his heat, he swallows a wail. He needs to feel his alpha’s skin. It’s the only thing that doesn’t hurt. That doesn’t feel wrong and make him ache and-

His alpha isn’t even wearing his underwear anymore. He moans and drops his head heavily back onto the mattress. 

Melting into the plush surface and shivering, rerolling the vision of all his bare, naked skin on display on the back of his eyelids. The flushed, glistening head of his cock. Impossibly thick and impossibly long- enough to make his thighs clench together rather than spread wide. The relatively still slim base of his cock where Steve  _ knows  _ his knot hides. His knot. His fucking knot. His knot that always makes him scream and panic in the best fucking way because  _ how,  _ how does that fit inside of him when the serum keeps him so tight with his healing factor. How? He needs that fucking monster inside of him.  _ Now. _

The pounding, pulsing, throbbing beat of his heat, his instincts, and his innermost primal omega all wail. All of them working in time and urging him to present for his alpha. Sparing him with enough energy and strength to do so somehow. 

He doesn’t question it, he just does. 

He flips onto his front, toes curling and his mouth going dry, wide open, as his dick drags against the bedsheets. Leaking and twitching at the friction. Causing him to moan with abandon into the bed, dragging his lips over the sheets for some sensation that’s not restless pleasure. He humps down into the bed, losing more of his mind as more pleasure roars into him. Seams coming undone, beginning to unravel him. He pushes into his legs and feet and gets them under him, making them take his weight because he  _ needs  _ this. He doesn’t bother with trying to do the same for his arms. He lets the bed suffocate him. It’s not like he can breath with the ballooning desperation inside of him, taking up every little bit of the extra space in his body anyway. Making sure he’s packed to the brim with fire and want and need. 

Then he’s presenting. For his alpha. 

And his alpha growls, feral and loud, making armies of shivers ripple across his skin,  _ “mmm, want me to breed you proper, huh, ‘mega?” _ Steve sobs.  _ Breed. Breed. Knot. Breed. Knot. Knot. Knot  _ knocks against the inside of his skull desperately. He’s dripping. Crying and leaking, completely shameless. “I know,” he can hear his wild smirk. He can feel the mattress dip as he climbs on the bed with him; his rim clenches and unclenches, impulsively putting on a show for his alpha. Showing him what he’s missing- trying to get him to hurry the fuck up. He’s so swollen and pink and leaking. Hopefully nothing but temptation in a single image. 

“I know you, you just wanna get on all fours so I can cum into you,” his alpha’s accusations strike electric arousal straight through the core of his being. He’s got him fucking pegged. 

He keens with relief, his alpha’s hands landing on his hips. His body coming to sit between his legs, Bucky growls, _ “I know.  _ You need me to get good and deep into you. Get your belly and womb all full and  _ stuffed.” _

Steve weeps, he sobs and chokes and more tears soak the sheets under his face. He whines into the bed, nodding urgently and giving himself a friction rash with it probably- wails when his alpha’s fingers toy with his rim. Losing more control of himself. His fingers tease his cunt, not slipping in just yet but so, so close to it. 

_ Knot me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Please. Please. Please.  _ Steve’s head runs in circles that aren’t consistent, just desperate. 

“How many fingers did you feed this pretty cunt before I came home?” Alpha growls, pushing two of his own in and making him drown out most all of his thoughts about answering. There are two of his alpha’s fingers  _ inside him.  _ His air and cognitive abilities leave with his alpha’s dirty talk and his touch, pleasure crashing through him. Breaking him apart and not even lifting a single finger to put him back together. Bucky’s fingers thrust in and out of him, his alpha somehow stubbornly patient when he’s so eager and pliant and  _ under him.  _ Begging to be fucked. 

“How many?” He rumbles, trying to remind him- determined and demanding, laying himself over his back and pushing him harder into the bed. Steve’s thighs quake. His hole drools, his mouth drools, he sobs. Unraveling. He can’t answer. 

A tongue, hot and slick strokes over his scent gland at the base of his neck and he cries out,  _ “ah!”  _ sounding like he’s already getting fucked, pleasure sparkling over the sensitive gland and dripping down into the rest of him. He still can’t answer.

His alpha groans,  _ “fuck. I- god, baby,  _ you smell _ so good. _ I can’t.” He pauses, trying to gather himself and failing, “tell- tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?” He groans out more sounds that sound like they want to be words but aren’t quite able to make it as he sits back up, falling short and falling onto ears that can’t process what the fuck he means. He just hears the tone and feels more arousal spike inside of him, an ever rising tide. He’s fuck-dumb  _ and he hasn’t even been fucked yet.  _ He nods desperately- whatever his alpha will give him. 

“Gonna, gonna-” Bucky pants, the hot, scorching, wide head of his cock coming to press against his poor needy entrance. 

Pressing himself forward a tiny little bit and then pulling away his alpha rocks his hips. Making him moan at the tiny drags of pleasure it brings him, feeling his alpha play with prying his body apart and forcing him to make room for him only to pull away at the last second, making his muscles flutter hungrily and ache. All of him aches. His body is screaming for him to just slam into him and get it the fuck over with- he’s so deprived. He’s so desperate. 

He can almost feel the phantom press of his thick, alpha cock into his cunt, heavy and endless- the best feeling in the world. He moans, eyes shutting tighter, mouth falling open wider, one permanent little stretched out,  _ “ooohhh!” _ clinging to his thick tongue. His alpha plays with him more, using his body as he likes while he writhes and drools under him. Going crazy for his cock. His knot. 

The first inch of his cock slides into him. 

Stretching him out  _ already, _ making him feel it, cooling the destroying flames raging inside of him but making him sweat even more still. He can fall apart more than he thought he could it turns out. 

_ “Wannnt it,” _ he cries when he doesn’t keep sliding in, slurring, pressing his hips back and up, trying to get more of the delicious feeling. He needs more. He wants more. He-

His alpha presses in more. 

Steve sputters as he slides and slides and presses in, feeling his body give way for his alpha, knowing he belongs there but still choking as he doesn’t stop. It’s **_glorious._** The head of his cock pops into his cunt. He wails. His alpha knows the sound, he knows it’s good, he keeps pushing in- Steve can feel the first veins on his shaft throbbing with his heart inside of him. He’s dizzy with desire. Silently he screams for the feeling, pleasure swarming him. More of him. There’s more of his alpha inside of him. Slowly sinking into him. Feeling him heavy in his cunt but also in his throat as he _slllllllowwwly_ makes himself at home in his body. Fucking him. Wrecking him. Taking him apart. Rearranging his insides. Pleasure takes over his system, wreaking the havoc that it will. Just as unstoppable as the plunge of his alpha’s hips to his ass. More heat pools in his belly, overflowing, lava molds to his insides, filling him up burning him apart. His cock is hot. Hot inside of him. He’s already too hot, but it’s making him feel so much better. Cooling him off and making him cry but _pleasing him_ too. Giving him a taste of satisfaction that he hasn’t known since he woke up. Since before then too. He’s never been so satisfied. He’s never known such a perfect example of having an alpha slide into him and completing him. Filling every crease and every crevice that exists inside and outside of him. 

More of his cock pushes inside of his full, full,  _ full _ cunt. 

Steve gasps shallowly, his lungs unable to expand with the feeling of his huge cock inside of him and all of the accompanying pleasure. He’s packed impossibly tight. His eyes roll back into his head. His toes curl and his fists do too. His chest is hitching as he struggles to breath and he can feel the hot, sharp points of his nipples rubbing the bed, sparking even more pleasure. 

He knows nothing but his alpha and his cock. Fulfilling him and his every need. 

“C-cum when, whenever you need,  _ guh, _ need to.” His alpha pants, squeezing his hips like he can press the words into his mind through his skin. Like he can get him to understand through touching him. Steve whines, realizing that he really is close. He’s  _ so  _ close and he didn’t even know. He was so focused on the heaven of Bucky’s cock sliding into him. 

_ My alpha knows. Alpha. My alpha is so good at taking care of- _

Steve _ screams. _

He sobs too, his sobs fucking break the sound of his desperation that’s been funneled into a scream. 

The head of his alpha’s cock is pressing into his prostate. Fat and wide and hot and _right. There._ _Right where he fucking needs it. Perfect._

Tsunamis of pleasure bash against and into him, sweeping him up, throwing him out to sea, tossing him overboard, drowning him. Making him cry harder than he ever has in his life, heaving sobs with his entire chest. His cunt milking his alpha’s cock without his brain having any say in it, just his body doing what it’s been made to. His world is turning upside down. Pleasure is thicker than air, thicker than water. And it’s all that he understands. All that makes sense. 

But there’s more. Literally more of his alpha’s cock to shove inside of him. 

And  _ shove  _ he does.

His alpha shoves his hips forward, stuffing another inch of himself into his willing, dripping, aching body- completing him. His alpha’s cock presses  _ completely _ into him, weighing his cunt down impossibly, probably making his belly bulge out with the shape of him as he takes him on all fours. His flesh is so thick and long and engorged with his hunger for him. Fiery with passion and lust. It’s everything everything inside of Steve is clawing and howling for, making him whole again. His mind has a single circle of thoughts, nothing more and nothing less. His cock is  _ thick  _ and  _ long.  _ Stretching him nearly unbearably _.  _ Making his breathing stop, his heart stop, his moans stop, and his panting stop. And making him cum. 

His alpha’s heavy balls rest against him, touching his feverish, sweaty, intimate skin and his own balls are emptying instantly as if he’s been commanded to cum by his alpha. 

His pleasure peaks. Taking away all of his senses and filling them with blindingly hot pleasure. 

That pleasure breaks through the ceiling that he thought he had for feeling and goes beyond, rushing to fill him with even more good feelings than he knew possible. It’s more than flames. More than fire. The pleasure under his skin and over his skin and  _ everywhere,  _ bursts inside him like nothing he’s ever known. 

He goes off like a shot, spilling and dripping as he orgasms. Quaking under the weight of it. Pleasure and fire and arousal and heat explode inside of him like the old landmines used to, not like the miniaturized, safer ones that get used in modern times.  _ No. _ His orgasm is uncontrollable and wild and gutting. 

Steve whines, high and thin. 

And the sound doesn’t embarrass him, not in the slightest. He’s too drunk on need and pleasure to be embarrassed even though surely his cheeks are still wine red with his heat flush, painting him like he’s mortified. He’s vibrating, completed but not. He’s just cum but… _more._ _He needs more._ He needs a knot to quell the wave of heat taking him. 

He doesn’t whine and squirm for long though, searching for more, because his alpha is right there, panting harshly through gritted teeth, laying against his back as he shakes. Pressing his weight into the bed as he comes up from the explosion that was his orgasm. His cock is still hard and wetter than ever, coated in his own cum and sweat and probably his own slick too. His alpha’s cock is still hard too. 

His muscles flutter, fucked out, around him,  _ “mmm-” _ he tries. Alpha hushes him, hands shaking as he tries to pet him soothingly. Steve knows- he  _ knows _ instinctually, deep down, that his alpha is barely hanging on. His alpha wants to knot him and feeling him come around him must’ve been torture and he wants to knot him even more now but he’s controlling himself for his sake. He doesn’t want that.  _ Knot. Breed. Fuck me. Fuck- _

_ “More.” _ He moans, gutted and throwing his head back as much as he can, trying and failing to see eye to eye with his alpha. Pressing back into his alpha’s pelvis, Steve feels his backside press wetly to him. He shivers, hot for it. Their skin sticks together with the excess slick that’s been forced out of him from his alpha’s girth- the noises are obscene. And they burn hotly through his ears. Arousal rockets through his half-crumbled body.  _ More  _ and _ Knot  _ are the only words he can think of, heat simmering and boiling in his belly, in his nerves, and in his blood. His eyes are still watery and he finds himself sniffling, lips trembling,  _ “mmore, alpha,”  _ he mewls weakly. 

Alpha growls, low, dangerous, and sexy. He doesn’t even open his mouth and say anything, he just starts to lift off of him, peeling his chest from his back. The hesitation pummeling his mind is palpable, Steve can smell it on him through the overwhelming scent of his drugged arousal. He whimpers, “I can take it,” sighing while rocking his hips back and forth.  _ More.  _ Tasting crumbs of what he wants the most, dangling in front of him like a carrot on a string. 

_ “St-steve,” _ Bucky begins, on the edge of breaking with an argument still on the tip of his tongue. 

Steve pulls himself forward stubbornly, moving through syrup, muscles shaking and screaming their desire for him to just lay back and get pounded ruthlessly. He wants to cry and beg and get his alpha to pound him. He doesn’t want to work for it but he wants it badly. And so he does it himself, digging his fingers into the mattress even though it means that he’s punching holes into it, he can’t not, he’s so out of control. He pulls himself forward a touch. Moaning at the feeling of his rim moving over the throbbing, thick veins of his alpha- he tries to speak. He just ends up opening his mouth stupidly, one little gasping cry of  **_“oh-”_ ** gets fucked out of him. He savors the slow pull of him out of his cunt even though it means he’s not as deep. 

But he moans even more when he thrusts his weight back clumsily but with as much strength as he can muster. Getting him back where he belongs, stretching him to his limit, filling him up. Claiming his cunt and womb with the throbbing heat of his cock and half inflated knot, swallowed up by his throbbing, desperate body. 

“See?” He whimpers unintentionally, his words sad and high, strung out he slips into even more tears or slips back into the tide of them that was already falling. He doesn’t even know. “Don’t you want me,  _ don’t you-? _ Need you to knot me. Want your knot.  _ You gotta. _ You gotta knot- knot me. I, you-  _ please? Alpha?”  _

Alpha growls, low in his chest. Possessive and animal. Building up to the point he’s heard it before and climbing higher, deeper, turning into something that makes his  _ soul _ quake. The most ancient, primal part of the base omega inside of Steve whimpers, loving every second of it. Steve is pinned, deflated and aching, unable to help himself. Succumbing to his alpha’s mercy. 

His vision swims with black spots when his alpha envelops his body in his arms, tightening them, one around his waist and one around his chest until he can feel the hardness of his muscles against him. Squeezing him and immobilizing him. Encasing him. Trapping him perfectly. The arm around his chest moves to hold his throat, not choking but holding. Steve moans, arching his neck and trembling, lighting up all over again. Feeling small and  _ kept  _ for the first time in decades.

_“No.”_ Alpha snarls, possession dripping thickly from the single syllable. Steve’s going to pass out. His core aches painfully. He wants his knot and he wants to roll around in _that voice._ _“No. I want you.”_ He says, going on, urging and raw like he can make him believe it just by saying it, “I want you. You. omega. You’re in season. With me. _For me._ Leaking and begging and all pink and ready for me but I don’t care-” his words are rough and barely audible with the rolling growl rumbling under them. Steve has never heard anything so erotic, he can’t even be embarrassed, he’s so turned on. “-because I want you anyway. I want you. Always. Your heat is- _jesus fucking christ, omega. It’s the cherry on top._ But I don’t care. I need you anyway. Want you.” 

_ “Please-”  _ he sobs, broken. Desperate and emotional. Paralyzed and helpless. 

Bucky growls again, tightening the possessive hold he has on his throat once before his hand slithers away, making ranks of goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch. Every nerve, every inch of him is on fire. Flaming with desire hotter than a thousand suns. 

He sits back up, no longer blanketing his body with his own but kneeling back from him, his cock still inside of him, looking down at him hotly. Watching over him, looming and dominating. A heavy presence in the atmosphere as well as in his demanding, needy body. 

His alpha’s hands return to his body then, shoving him, using his strength and causing Steve’s unsteady head to reel. He moans like he’s getting fucked, just at the rough treatment. His fingers wrap the nape of his neck and push his face harder into the bed, groaning heartily,  _ “stay. _ Gonna take you just like this.” 

Like  _ this.  _ Face down, drooling into the bed. Ass up, presenting him with his crying hole. Legs spread apart so his dick, hard and pounding like he hasn’t cum at all, barely brushes the bed. Back arched in order to keep his heavy cock pressed as far into him as possible. Slick leaking down the back of his twitching thighs. 

Steve keens and moans his agreement, he can  _ feel _ the way his alpha’s eyes are consuming the sight of his body and he loves it. 

He needs more. 

Like he can read his mind his alpha locks a hand on his hip and pulls himself back, making sure Steve’s not trying to follow. His cock twitches hotly inside him as pulls out, making Steve’s blinded by pleasure, unseeing eyes roll back into his head. His gut curls impossibly tight with anticipation, thrumming through him like an electric charge, just about stopping his heart. 

Bucky hovers exactly there for a moment, just the head of his cock resting inside of him. Torturing him. Steve sobs and Bucky rumbles, groaning, “look at  _ that.” _ Pressing an impatient finger to his rim, circling the overused muscle, Steve moans, devastated. “You’re so good.  _ So pretty and pink.” _ Steve flushes, inhaling sharply, “looks like you're fucked out, baby, but you’re still begging, huh?” Steve nods frantically, dizzy and sobbing. His alpha just growls again, pushing himself back into his body so slowly that Steve feels every little bit of him. He knows his alpha’s eyes burn into the hot, tight feeling of his rim being forced open again, watching himself wreck his hole. 

The feeling consumes his mind. He can think of nothing but the slide of him into his body.

It feels like he’s being speared on his cock. 

Like he’s gonna burst at the seams with cock, he’s so full.  _ So full.  _

“Big, big,  _ fuck, alpha, _ you’re so big. So thick,” Steve gasps, babbling and not even trying to gas up his alpha, just speaking what he’s feeling, overwhelmed with no relief in sight, “gonna make me loose for once, _ fuck.  _ It’s s’a lot-  _ so much.” _

_ “Yeah- _ ” alpha groans, dangerous and low. He’s only halfway back into him, “such a good home for my cock, for my knot. Gonna knot you good. Just like you want. Gonna fill you up and breed you until you can’t take it. Until you can’t take me any more, begging for me to st-stop. Until you’re loose. Wanna- wanna make you gape for me.” 

_ “Uh-huh!”  _ Steve gasps, body full of cock and molten lava, breaking apart with desperation. Imagining being so full of his cum - having taken knot after knot - that not even his specifically made birth control can help him. He’d be bred up anyway. His body too full of cum to not be bred. Belly full and sticking out because his womb is so bloated and heavy, overflowing with his alpha’s seed after he’s fucked knot after knot after knot into him. He whines,  _ “pluh-please!”  _

“Don’t worry, omega,” his alpha grits out, pulling back quick and fast and dirty. Thrusting back into him so hard that his vision wipes to black, putting more than his back into it. His ears ring with his own completely helpless noises. It takes a second or so for his brain to even register the pleasure from the first thrust. It’s so good. 

_ Oh god, oh god, oh god,  _ he thinks dizzily, not really even thinking. Getting jostled hard with every thrust his alpha makes into him. He’s just feeling. Just being along for the fucking ride that is every new thrust of his alpha, into and out of him. Pleasing him. Arousing him. Giving him everything. The hot rushes and waves of pleasure and heat suffocate him with every thrust until his alpha is going so fast, pulling out and pushing in, that he can’t separate them into waves. Just static. Static filling his body and taking control of him. Dunking him deeper and deeper into the ocean of need that he’s got. He’s leaking and twitching and taking his alpha. But it seems impossible- it seems like his thrusts are too hard and his cock and expanding knot is too big. But. It’s happening. 

It’s happening.

_“Oh, god,”_ his alpha says, guttural and low, making his toes curl at the sound, “Steve, _fuck._ You- you’re so tight.” 

“Could be-” he whines, another hard thrust throwing him forward in the best way. Stunning him with pleasure, “could be tighter! You gotta- just gonna cum into me.  _ Fill me up mmmore. Make me tighter, st-stretch me out.”  _ Steve moans, relieved and tormented all at once as he keeps fucking him. Knots snap loose inside of him but others form, tightening in his body. He wails, overwhelmed and sputtering. Needing everything that’s happening, taking everything that’s happening. 

Fire rages through him, matches to a flame, explosions to gunpowder. 

His ass stings wonderfully with the force of his alpha’s hips snapping into him, taking care of him, getting him loose and stretched. Readying him to take his cum, his knot. Fucking him like he wants to break him open so he can fit inside of him properly. His toes are permanently curled up painfully in order to deal with the pleasure assaulting him, the souls of his feet are cramping but it’s insignificant with everything else pouring over him. The pain only harmonizes with his pleasure, washing into one beat of  _ yes, yes, yes _ that has him gasping and moaning and rocketing towards his finish. He just needs to be knotted. He needs to be bred. 

He screams into the pillows under him, ripping up the sheets and the mattress and not giving a single fucking fuck. He just- he… 

He whimpers and hyperventilates on his alpha cock and nearly fully blown knot, amazing himself with how long he’s been able to hold on. His alpha groans and grunts above him, his own scent rising towards climax. 

A flood of words start pouring from him and he’d cry with the flood of words too if he wasn’t fucking out of tears, he can’t cry, he can’t- he  _ can’t.  _

His cunt is so stretched and wet and he wants his alpha’s knot so bad that he feels it in physical pain, “so heavy, heavy an- and you’re s’big and,  _ oh, oh,  _ **_ah!_ ** _ ” _ His fucked out words make his alpha pound him harder, the head of his cock hitting his prostate again and again, all of his body weight behind the strikes. Steve shakes uncontrollably. He sobs dryly.  _ “Wanna feel you cum,”  _ he begs religiously. Alpha growls and squeezes his hip harder, keeping him where he wants him. He cries out- he wants to wear his alpha’s claiming marks. He wants to drip with his cum and with his scent. He needs all of it.

_ “Wanna be knotted, want you to, to knot me. In me. In me- please! Please! Alpha! Ple-!”  _ Bucky pulls him back onto his cock savagely at the same time that he thrusts into him, fucking the loudest scream yet out of him. He sounds like a fucking alley cat probably, his ears are pounding and rining, but it feels so good that he keeps going. Keeps letting go of every noise that wants to come out of him. Sobbing dryly into the sheets, tasting tears and sweat and snot, desperate and messy,  _ “Please!Please!Please! I need your- your cum. Need your pups. Wanna be bred. Breed m-me. Breed me. Gimme your knot ‘cause I wwant, want your cum. Wanna be fffull.” _

_“Fuck- fuck, yeah,”_ Bucky growls, “gonna get you big with my pups- gonna breed you an-and make you mine. _Mine.”_ Steve pictures his alpha bearing his teeth, ready to bond him, and growling that as he does it. Biting him. Claiming him. He swoons, falling deeper into the bed but arching his back more, moaning even though his throat feels raw and nearly bloody with overuse. “Gonna knot you so good that you’ll want it _all- all the time, just like you’re always in heat. Always desperate._ _Gonna get you addicted to having your cunt stuffed full a’ me. Gonna fuck, fuck, you so good. Breed you good too.”_

_ “Yes-!”  _ He cries, feminine and fucked-out, delirious with the feelings surrounding him.  _ “Fill me up. Fill me up. Gimme it, want- cum. Want… gimme it.” _

Bucky growls through his panting, heavy breaths and fucks forward into him brutally, forcing a high, breathy,  _ “ah!” _ out of him that takes the rest of his air from his body. Taking his begging as the desperate invitation that it is. Pleasure swells hugely inside of him. 

Drooling into sheets Steve melts under the pressure of his knot popping into place, stretching him fuller, plugging him up. His rim stretches as he swells more and more and breathy cries of  _ “ah, ah, ah!” _ fall out of his lips as his body struggles to lock around the girth of his knot. His eyes are squeezed shut, he’s not sure he can take his knot even though he has before. During his rut. It feels so,  _ so  _ different with his body in heat and his mind far away, long since melted from his skull. It feels like he shouldn’t be able to handle it but,  _ fuck,  _ his body is made for this. 

His body is screaming  _ knot, knot, knot, yes, yes! Breed. Breed. Knot.  _

Steve falls from the cliff of his orgasm when he feels the first wave of cum from his alpha empty into him, hot and thick and everything he’s been craving. His mouth hangs wet and wide open against the sheets, his head turned to the side, silent screams keeping him from breathing, eyebrows drawn together, eyes shut tightly, trembling on his alpha’s knot as his own dick jerks and twitches under his body. Making an even bigger mess over the sheets and his skin. 

And it’s so,  _ so fucking good. _

So good that he can’t describe it. So good that it seems to last for  _ years, _ pleasure ringing through him and making him crumble to a trillion tiny pieces. Breaking him apart. 

Steve barely hangs onto his consciousness, clawing at it instinctually to keep it in his reach, the darkness of exhaustion creeping around the edges of his mind like a vignette filter now that his boiling need has begun to fade just from the feeling of his alpha’s knot. He’s not sure if he’s still breathing or not. He wouldn’t even  _ try  _ to keep his head above the blissful void that comes from being fucked within an inch of your life if he didn’t know that the best feeling ever - especially during his heat when his entire body (including his cunt) is so, so sensitive and his mind is full of the need to be bred - is each little pulse of Bucky filling him up. Cumming into him. 

He wants it. He needs it. 

It’s the best feeling, feeling of his alpha’s release being pumped into him- he needs to feel the pressure in his body climb and climb as he’s fucked full. It’s the cherry on top. 

More cum dribbles out of the tip of his dick at the hazy less than half formed thoughts; he tries to whine but it comes out strangled, there’s no room for noises inside of his body when Bucky is there too. He’s  _ huge.  _ He couldn’t push back on his alpha’s knot if he wanted to, if he had the brain power to want that, he’s so deep into him. Filling him. Satisfying him. 

Bucky moans weakly above him somewhere, Steve whimpers back without thinking, and another wave of cum floods into him, hot and  _ good.  _ Pressure grows and he shivers joyfully. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes try to roll back even further in his head. He sucks in a quick breath, unbelievable satisfaction curling around the heavy feeling of his cunt. Stretched with his cock and then packed with his knot and cum. 

His body aches perfectly, used and being filled. 

Being bred after his alpha has knotted. 

His alpha groans like he can read his mind but also with his own orgasm that’s still unfolding, rocking with the tiny, tiny amount of space he has to do so, pulling one last pulse of release from himself. Emptying it into Steve. 

Steve mewls, thoughts circling around the gorgeous heft of his alpha’s balls. Full of cum and heavy with it, all for him and- yeah, _ yeah,  _ he makes another pitiful noise. His hole ripples weakly around the stretch of his shaft and knot and head and,  _ god,  _ all of him.  _ So much of him. All of alpha’s cum is inside of me, filling me up, making me, god, making me heavy with it. Gonna give me his pups. His knot and his babies and then his bond- _

Bucky’s hands carefully find his hip and the center of his chest, shaking him out of his daydreams. Right. He should, should probably  _ not  _ think like that when he can help it. For the both of them. Otherwise- god, his heat would literally have them fucking every single moment of it if he indulged himself carelessly the whole while. 

The hand in the middle of his chest brings his back to Bucky’s chest. The hand on his hip keeps their tie from being jostled. Steve sighs his appreciation, going limp purposefully, making it easier for Bucky to manhandle him and put him where he wants him. 

Apparently he wants them on their sides, which makes sense- it’s the most comfortable position for them both. 

Steve lets his head roll back onto Bucky’s, his alpha’s, shoulder, “hi,” Bucky says, smirking a little. His voice amused but rough with all of the growling he’s been doing and his eyes are still dark with arousal just like his cock is still magnificently hard inside of him. His knot still nice and fat. 

Steve smiles big in return, feeling loopy with the relief from his clawing, excruciating need- it makes his alpha chuckle and kiss his cheek, “feel okay?” 

“Mmm,” he hums, closing his eyes.

_ “Good,”  _ his alpha tells him earnestly, stroking his hip and pulling him a little more back into his body so he’s resting more on him and less on his own side. Taking more of his weight like he needs to feel even more hazy and weightless. 

Giggles fizz up from inside of him, sparkly and light, and he blinks back at his alpha. Twisting around so he can see his handsome face as they lay back to front, going boneless once he reaches an acceptable position, “are y-you gonna be ready ff’ more of that? Fffor four, four more days?” His voice shakes from his giggles and from overuse.  Bucky laughs with him, his hot breath washing over Steve’s hair and the side of his face as he chuckles. 

“Yep,” he says eventually, popping the ‘p’ in the word, confident in his answer. 

“Good,” Steve shoots back, eyes already shut, nearly completely asleep immediately after he stops talking. 

**Author's Note:**

> I sincerely hope this lived up to the same hype the that other story I wrote had!! Thank you guys so much for the support and comments and kudos and bookmarks and everything! <3 <3 <3


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